Space Scoundrel
by PiratePrestonShepard45
Summary: Mark Shepard has received a promotion due to his actions on Akuze. However, this has lead his drinking problem to becoming worse and Shepard to becoming more susceptible to lash outs. Though, he has no idea what amazing things are in store for him as he is stationed on a Alliance new ship, the SSV Normandy. Will he crack under pressure, or prevail ?


**Author's Note: Okay guys, if you like this prequel, let me know! If I get any great feedback on this, I will put more chapters up. If you leave a review, please be honest. Thank you! :3**

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The ceremony has been over for a few days and Mark's mind could concentrate only three things: no longer is he a mere Lieutenant, no longer is he stationed on the already familiar Tokyo, and no longer will he have to purchase drinks at the same minuscule port bars he would always go to. Fact is that booze had been his only release from reality, the only one that was legal anyways.

He never really processed what happened at Akuze, just that he was alive and that an inordinate amount of marines weren't because "God couldn't put them in the right fucking place at the right fucking time." If it weren't for the Mako he was making repairs on, he'd never had enough time to jump inside it and shelter from the hell the thresher maw released upon the convoy he was in. He thought it was cowardly but the brass said, "You were smart Shepard, that's why God made you a damn fine engineer son"

Shepard thought of it as nothing more than "lily-livered luck."

But with this new Lieutenant-Commander position, Anderson stationing him, and several veteran servicemen of the Tokyo on this new bird, it could be a new start for him, "Hell, maybe I'll even give up drinking!" he said. Shepard looks at his flask of old crow, shakes his head and says, "Well, at-least not for a fucking while heheh."

Mark stands up only to be shaken by his brain tumbling inside his skull with a force like that of Krogans butting heads. As his vision clears and his thoughts return to him, Shepard recalls where he is, The Outer Reach gentleman's club. Mark had been in this place before but he only came for the booze, he had no interest in getting flirty and throwing away all his damn pay on the slight chance he might get laid, getting an inter-galactic STD wasn't one of his goals in life and he didn't want to start any time soon.

He'd been there for a few hours just drinking and refilling his flask, glancing at a dancer here or there but not paying them too much attention, for if you stared at them for awhile you risked looking like a suspicious pervert and you'd probably be watched by one of the bouncers in return, which was weird.

As he vacated the club, his body could feel the warm inner pounding of the bass's loud boom throughout him, with the heat of crowded bodies and the dim lit room mixed with scents of booze, sex, sweat, and piss. This repulsed him yet attracted him in the strangest most fascinating way. He tried not to push or shove anybody; clubs fights on Illium were risky, you never knew if you were about to tangle with a biotic or a bounty hunter, either one was bad obviously. He finally got to the door and stumbled out into the mid temperature air of Illium, he already felt ten degrees cooler and it was oh-so nice since he had begun to sweat on his brow and back. Since it was only 2000 hours he had time to get back to his hotel and get some shut eye before 0500 hours. Which is when he would report back to the Tokyo and take them to an Alliance Station circumnavigating around Palaven, which is where their new ship awaited to be boarded by its first experienced crew.

As Shepard strolled down the long row of blocks towards his hotel, he pondered on what the name of the ship was. He must have forgotten it but didn't remember at all, probably because of his borderline drunkenness that had kept consuming him through the evening. Luckily for Shepard though, he could hold his booze and wake up the next day with a light hangover since he was so used to drinking. Pills from the med-bay also helped with the headaches that occasionally crept into the morning.

After finally making it to the 5th floor, Matt relieved a heavy sigh from his tired lungs since he was beginning to feel drained of all his energy. He made it to his door, his eyes struggling to stay open, and proceeded to set his alarm to 0400 and collapse onto his comfortable bed; still in his Alliance Crew uniform, boots and all.


End file.
